


Gifts

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late in the afternoon on the day Blaine moved back into the loft, he let himself look at all of the details Kurt had chosen for Blaine's new workspace.</p>
<p>set within the last song of 5x20 (“The Untitled Rachel Berry Project”), with no spoilers beyond</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> I did a little freewriting earlier this week, and I wrote the story entirely inside-out and in the wrong order. Wow, would it make no sense to anyone outside of my own head. By my usual rules of freewriting, I would have had to post it with minimal editing, but it wasn’t English. So I’ve mushed the words around until they’re in the right order. It’s still a looser piece than I would usually post - not as tightly edited or balanced in terms of sweetness - but I’d like to keep the spirit of freewriting intact even if I actually had to do a polish on it.
> 
> Very sweet, based on me pondering Kurt buying office supplies for Blaine. I didn’t expect that this would be the fic that came out of that contemplation... but my muse is a fickle beast.
> 
> Per usual, my POV characters are limited and unbalanced in their perspective. (But if you don’t think Blaine lives a Kurt Hummel Appreciation Life, I don’t know what show you’re watching.)

Late in the afternoon on the day Blaine moved back into the loft, after most of his belongings were put away and the flurry of excitement around his arrival had died down, he slowly lowered himself onto his new desk chair in some wonder and let himself look at all of the details Kurt had chosen for Blaine's new workspace. Blaine had been smiling at the space every time he’d passed it today, but now it was time to explore it properly.

He was so overawed by the gesture of its creation that he could hardly make himself reach out to touch the desk or the little bird statue perched on the windowsill. He could barely believe any of it was real at all.

He knew Rachel had had her own part in the project - because it was her apartment, too, but also because for the first hour he was there she kept interrupting him to ask him how he liked it - but he knew the space was still ultimately a gift from Kurt. With the history of the argument that had driven Blaine out months ago, there was no way around it. The work area wasn’t just an acquiescence to Blaine’s idea for the apartment’s layout because he was living there again; it was a deliberate gift from Kurt to him.

As if the very existence of the space wasn’t enough, as he sat there Blaine was amazed to find that it was fully stocked and ready for him. From the layout of the furniture to the photographs of them he’d chosen to the supplies waiting to be used, Kurt had clearly spent a lot of time trying to make it just so for Blaine. Blaine wanted to savor every detail.

Running his hands along the smooth surface of the desk, Blaine drew in a shallow breath, filled with amazement.

Of course the area was pretty and well-planned, organized and aesthetically pleasing. Kurt had put the area together; there was no question that it would be as beautiful as a photograph in a magazine. But Blaine knew it was far more than that.

It meant acceptance and apology and forgiveness and love. It meant care and concern for Blaine’s needs. It meant welcome and partnership and sharing and home.

It meant the two of them as a couple, weaving their lives together. It meant _him_ \- Blaine - his imprint, his space, his opinions, his world just as much as Kurt’s.

It meant Kurt wanted him, _all_ of him, and he twisted a little in the chair, his breath trapped in his throat as he took everything in.

The organizer was rainbow-colored instead of clear or white, a bright, pointed, happy accent against the loft’s wall. The in and out boxes were a cheerful orange, as was the chair. The small, folding notepad to the side was made of thick paper and real leather, smooth and rich beneath his hands, ready to be used.

Opening the top drawer, Blaine found a dozen perfectly sharpened pencils tucked inside a carved wooden pencil tray instead of rolling loose. There were white artist’s erasers sitting beside them instead of basic pink rubber ones. There were a half-dozen different colors of pens, all in the fine-tipped rollerball style Blaine liked best.

The rubber bands were in a tidy container instead of in a tangled ball. The tape was in a solid dispenser with pretty style lines instead of in a cheap plastic frame. There were two kinds of paper clips, one box of utilitarian silver ones and another with whimsical little birds at the top.

Blaine found himself smiling down at the office supplies, stroking his fingertips over them in an echo of a lover’s tender caress.

Wherever he looked, nothing was quite ordinary. Nothing was mundane. Every single thing Kurt had bought was special.

Blaine’s fingers lingered on the bird-adorned paper clips for a long moment before he kept going.

There were legal pads and notebooks, rulers and pencil sharpeners and highlighters and hole punches and staple removers, and every single one was crisp, clean, and perfect.

The drawers open all around him, Blaine sat there and stared at it all, his heart a thick, pounding lump in his throat.

Everything was special... and just what would have caught Blaine’s eye in the store before he made himself buy the basic kind, the boring kind, because he didn’t _need_ anything more.

It wasn’t that he was surprised that Kurt would want special items for himself, because Kurt’s style was exquisite and unique, but he’d taken the time and the care to pick out special items for _Blaine_.

Kurt had bought it all for _him_.

He knew Kurt loved him. He knew it from the way he looked at Blaine, the way he listened to Blaine, the way he kissed him like nothing else mattered. Blaine, when he was focused on Kurt instead of his own worries, felt that love as surely and warmly as the sun on his skin.

Still, this was something more. Kurt had gone out of his way to pick beautiful items, fun items, useful items, not the obvious ones or even the ones _he_ might have liked but ones he thought Blaine would especially enjoy. He’d walked through the store - or maybe many stores, Blaine thought in a giddy rush, because these weren’t the types of items the NYADA bookstore sold - and had taken his time to find not just everything Blaine might need but _special_ things. Perfect things, just for Blaine.

It took Blaine’s breath away, made the world shift around him, not out of surprise - because he knew Kurt loved him and took care of him, and that wasn’t a shock at all - but out of pure, helpless _joy_.

He swiveled happily on the chair, unable to contain his energy.

He knew he was lucky. Finding someone who knew you so well and cared about you so much was a rare, incredible thing. He’d felt it in his bones every day they’d been together, even before they’d been more than friends - though sometimes he wondered if they’d ever really not been in love or if he just hadn’t known what the word meant - and with all of the hard times they’d gone through since Kurt first moved to New York Blaine was even less inclined to take what they had now for granted.

He _knew_ he was lucky. He knew he was the luckiest man alive to have met his soul mate and best friend so young and to be able to marry him. He woke up smiling every single day with Kurt lying there beside him.

Still, sometimes it caught him by surprise how _much_ he loved being loved by the clever, kind, thoughtful man who was Kurt Hummel.

Blaine knew Kurt as well as he knew anything in the world, and he still was surprised by how amazing he was, like there was just no limit to it. Kurt had his hard side, too, but that didn’t matter when balanced against the good.

Blaine had expected that there might be some remnant of awkwardness when he first moved back, some lingering resentment, some echo of how things were before. He didn’t expect this gift from Kurt’s heart instead.

But then, Kurt had always surprised him, always zigged instead of zagged, always turned the world upside-down when Blaine least expected it.

It was one of the best things about him.

With a helpless laugh at his own boundless love, Blaine stumbled up from his desk, his heart thudding with gratitude. He loved the paperclips and notions in his workspace, but he loved Kurt even more for wanting to give them to him.

He found Kurt lying on the couch, reading a magazine with his bare feet propped up on the seat, and without looking up or pausing his scan of the page Kurt inched to the side on the cushions, lifted his arm, and let Blaine slip in beside him.

Kurt’s long body was so easy to curl up to, like he’d been designed to leave the perfect negative space for Blaine to fit into, two halves of a whole, two pieces of the same puzzle.

Blaine pressed his eyes shut in pleasure, tucking his head on Kurt’s shoulder and his arm tight around Kurt’s slim waist. There wasn’t a lot of room, but it didn’t matter; he didn’t want any space between them. His knee fell gently over Kurt’s thigh, his toes tucked against Kurt’s calf.

Kurt settled his arms around him, so simply, so easily, and kissed the top of his head, giving Blaine exactly what he needed without asking. Letting Blaine in without even having to think about it.

Blaine felt another surge of gratitude, and he nuzzled against Kurt’s shoulder in wordless relief. Kurt’s shirt was soft against his skin, his shoulder warm and strong beneath the fabric.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asked him.

With a shaky, happy sigh, Blaine tilted his head to press a kiss to Kurt’s jaw, watching Kurt’s eyes crinkle with his smile, and then settled back in again, right where he belonged. This was what he wanted. This was what he needed. This was somehow his present and his future. These arms, this man, this love.

“You bought me a pencil sharpener shaped like an old fashioned inkwell,” Blaine said.

“Do you like it?” Kurt asked, so softly, his whole body still for the moment it took for Blaine to reply.

“I love it,” Blaine told him. “You know I’ve always wanted to use a quill pen.”

Kurt hummed his reply, kissing Blaine’s hair again and tipping his cheek to rest against it as he read. “I do know that,” he said.

“You do.” With his palm tight against Kurt’s waist, not wanting him to be able to move even an inch away, Blaine kissed Kurt’s shoulder in fierce, happy appreciation. “Thank you.”

Blaine could feel Kurt’s cheek tighten in a smile against the top of his head. “Thank you for coming back.” Kurt’s voice dipped a little, breathless and quiet. “Thank you for coming home.”

Blaine had always thought that home was a place: a house, an apartment, a set of walls and doors. It wasn’t true, not really.

It was this. It was Kurt.

“Always,” Blaine promised.

When he got up later, Blaine knew he’d take one of his new post-its with the little musical note in the corner and write _I love you_ on it before sticking it in the middle of Kurt’s homework reading to be discovered whenever Kurt got to that part of his assignment.

Tonight, he knew he’d lay Kurt out on the bed and worship him, show him exactly how much he loved him, how grateful he was to be welcomed home, for _this_ to be home, for _Kurt_ to be home.

But for now, he’d stay here, quietly curled up with the most special gift of all Kurt had ever given him: Kurt, himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I am spoiler-free!


End file.
